The Homecoming

by Robyn Carr

  “You’re going to pull through, I think.”

  “I watched that movie. I thought I was having a heart attack but I watched. Your mother told me it was a heart attack, otherwise I’d have been fine.”

  “You should always get a second opinion when Mom is diagnosing,” Seth said.

  “I watched it. Iris brought it over, I think.”

  “Iris has been a troublemaker since I was about four,” Seth said. “You don’t have to do everything she says, you know.”

  “I bet you do,” Norm said.

  “That’s different.”

  The paramedic laughed discreetly.

  “I gotta say something because I don’t think these youngsters know squat shit about gallbladders and heart attacks and I think there’s still a chance I could die. I don’t talk much anymore. I lost the will. Your mother does all my talking for me and I got arthritis in all my joints. But I wasn’t mad at you about that car accident.”

  Seth’s eyes widened.

  “Okay, for a little while maybe I was, but not that long. I figured you were mad at me since it was my fault.”

  “Your fault? How was it your fault?”

  “I was the one pushing you the whole time, telling you you’d never get a chance like that again—going pro. I didn’t think you’d turn your fast buck into a fast car. So for a while it just turned me sour, but I got over that. You never came around. I figured you blamed me for it.”

  “I never came around because I seemed to make you miserable.”

  “Shit, son, breathing makes me miserable! You should’a finished college before taking a pro contract. But hell, how’m I to know? Everything ever went right in my life was on account of taking the opportunity, hear me? I wasn’t that smart—I was just lucky. You were lucky and smart. I pushed on you and you were just a kid and I guess not smart enough to know better.”

  “Dad, you’re the smartest man I know,” he said. “You turned a one-pump gas station into a success and sold it at a profit.”

  “Lucky,” he insisted. “Before I die...” He cringed and made a face. “I want you to know, I was proud of you. No need for me to say so. Your mother never stopped talking long enough for me to get a word in anyways. When I die, tell your brothers. They mighta never got a pro contract but I was proud of them, too. They did all right.”

  Seth smiled. “You’re not going to die. But on the off chance you do, anything you want me to tell Mom?”

  “Yeah.” He cringed again. “Tell her have a good time on her cruise. And, Seth? If you’re going to stick with Iris, you might want to see if you can rein her in a little.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Dad.”

  “And you sue the diner, you hear me?”

  “Sure, Dad.”

  * * *

  Norm didn’t die. Instead he had his gallbladder removed about twenty-four hours later, as soon as it settled down and his stomach was empty. It was a simple and pretty uneventful procedure...unless you asked Norm.

  “Horrible thing,” he told Seth. “I nearly died of it. So, when are you filing the suit against the diner?”

  “We’re not suing the diner for a pulled-pork sandwich,” Seth said.

  “Then how about a citation of some kind? Isn’t there some law he broke by not warning people they could end up in surgery from eating his food? Maybe he could just pay a fine or something?”

  “I think you should stop blaming him for your gallbladder before he sues you,” Seth advised.

  “What’s he gonna sue me for?” Norm demanded.

  “I don’t know—defamation of character? Slander? Giving him a headache?”

  A couple of days later when Norm was home and possibly permanently embedded in his easy chair, Stu came to visit. He was still wearing his apron and bearing gifts. A pulled-pork sandwich, still warm. “I heard you were suing me,” Stu said. “I thought I’d bring you this, see if you think it’s any better.”

  “You think I want another ambulance ride?” Norm shouted.

  “It’s not like you still got a gallbladder,” Stu said. “And I checked with Doc Grant to see if there were any diet restrictions. Go ahead, give it a try. I pulled out all the stops on this one. It’s perfect.”

  With a scowl, Norm reluctantly bit into the sandwich. He chewed thoughtfully. “I think you’re getting a little better,” he said. “You want half?”

  “Naw, I’m good. I gotta get back. Glad you’re feeling better. When you back to work?”

  “Ten more days or so. Not that I have any problems.”

  “Of course not,” Stu said. “Take care.”

  * * *

  Iris was very relieved to be forgiven and even teased about her drama. She did agree to run things by Seth in the future on the off chance she discovered something that could mortify him. “It’s a little dicey, knowing all the rules when I’m living in sin with you right next door to your parents.”

  “I like the sin part,” he said. “Just check everything else with me.”

  A couple of months earlier Iris had not thought it possible that they’d overcome their conflicts and wind up in each other’s arms. It was fair to say that never before had she enjoyed this kind of confidence and satisfaction with Seth. They weren’t kids anymore and it was such a relief to be able to approach everything they shared from the perspective of adults who knew what they wanted from life. It gave Iris a peace of mind and spirit she had never anticipated.

  But relationships were not without challenges, of course.

  A text came in from Seth while she was working.

  Call please. When you have a minute.

  She called him straight away. She half expected him to ask her what she’d like for dinner and that’s where her head was when he said, “Do you have an hour today or tomorrow that you can come to my office? Robbie Delaney is concerned about Rachel, about his family, about the interview they had with DHS and he’d like to talk to you, but he can’t come to the high school or invite you to Sue Marie’s house. He seems to need some advice.”

  Her mind shifted back to that problem. It hadn’t preoccupied her lately, not with Norm’s surgery and other things going on. But it was back. It was here. It was now.

  “I have two meetings tomorrow, one at eleven and one at three. I can sneak away any other time.”

  “Good. Let me get back to him and call you right back. Thanks, baby. This is good of you. He’s pretty confused and worried.”

  Since Rachel’s outburst, Iris had steered clear of Rachel and Brett. She’d handed the case over to the authorities. She hadn’t been the object of anyone’s anger over it lately, hadn’t had any calls from Connie and DHS, had been blissfully ignorant of any details.

  Three hours later she was walking into Seth’s office. Robbie Delaney was sitting on the corner of Seth’s desk. Iris had seen him occasionally over the years, here and there. The past year since Rachel had been one of the football cheerleaders she’d seen him more often. She had never given him much thought; they exchanged greetings and moved on. Now, here was a man who clearly had burdens. He looked into his coffee cup and when he looked up his expression nearly shouted fear and shame.

  Robbie’s hair was thinning. He was a little heavier, the lines around his eyes a little deeper. And now that winning smile was more hesitant.

  “Hi, Iris,” he said.

  “Robbie. How are you?” She pulled up a chair. Seth was behind his desk, with Robbie perched on the corner and Iris sitting more or less between them.

  “I’m not great right now. I hope you can help. Rachel says it was you who alerted the social workers. That right?”

  “Would that upset you? If you found out I was concerned?”

  “No! I’d thank you! We got a mess right now.”

  She took a deep br
eath. “I had a talk with Rachel about all the bruises that were showing up. She had a reason for every one. But then I saw what appeared as suspicious behavior—Brett was a little rough with her and clearly very angry. Very angry! I just couldn’t let it go. Robbie, it’s my job. I have to notice things like that. Did Rachel deny it?”

  “To the social workers, she totally denied it. She kept that up for a couple of hours after, too. Look at this,” he said, withdrawing a cell phone from his pocket. It was pink. He clicked on the text messages and handed it to Iris.

  Parking lot. 3:15

  I can’t. I have cheer practice.

  B late. 3:15. Come on baby.

  I can’t! I’ve been late 3 times!

  U gonna give me trouble?

  Please!

  3:15. I mean it.

  Sorry, babe. Does it hurt? U no I love U. Y do U push me?

  Rache? Rache? U gonna be mad now? U better answer me or I’m gonna be mad!

  Brett, I was at practice! Give me a break!

  Don’t I come before practice?

  I met you didn’t I?

  U were late to me! But on time to cheer?

  OMG, I do the best I can! Call me later!

  A flood of texts calling out to her followed, texts she couldn’t answer because her father now had her phone.

  Iris lowered the phone and looked at Robbie. Her mouth was open in question.

  “That was yesterday before the social workers got to the house. Rachel was furious about the accusations. After the women left, I dumped her purse and grabbed her phone. I pay for that phone. I saw the texts and read them out loud and she went berserk. She pitched a holy fit, but I hung on to the phone and demanded the truth and she went to pieces. ‘It’s not fair,’ she said. He doesn’t really hurt her, just a couple of accidents. When I asked her what had to happen in the parking lot at three-fifteen she fell apart and started to sob. She never would say what he wanted but my stomach is sick. Maybe because I was once a teenage boy in that same parking lot. I can’t let this happen, Iris. Tell me what to do.”

  She took a deep breath. “I brought you some names of counseling groups for teenage girls in crisis and the name of a counselor you can talk to.”

  “What about you?”

  She shook her head. She passed the phone to Seth so he could see the messages. “Unfortunately, I can’t reach Rachel. I tried. She’s very angry with me for questioning her about her injuries. Listen, here’s what you have to know about battered girlfriends. It’s right here in the texts. He loves her. He wants her and can’t live without her. If he strikes out at her, it’s her fault, but he’s sorry and he won’t do it again. He promises. He loves her. He needs her. He strikes out again and she made him do it again but he’s sorry and loves her. Again. It’s the worst roller coaster. She’ll protect him and won’t give him up easily. And, Robbie, it’s not just physical abuse. Sometimes it’s emotional. It’s complicated and so challenging. Not only does the abuser learn that behavior from parents or other family members, so does the abused. It takes intervention and therapy to break the cycle.”

  Robbie stared at her for a long, quiet moment. He let his eyes close for a moment. “I have to do something about this,” he finally said.

  Iris wondered if Robbie, always so physical and aggressive as a boy, had ever been an abuser. “This?” she asked.

  “This cycle of abuse. I have to get Rachel out of here. I have to take her home with me. She just can’t stay here anymore. I can’t help her change this if she lives in Thunder Point and goes to school with him every day. How’m I gonna keep her safe?”

  “Is that an option for you, Robbie? Can you take her out of Thunder Point? Would it be possible?”

  “I have my own business. I make my own hours. I work all the time anyway. If I need to leave a little later in the morning or run home in the afternoon to make sure everyone is all right, I can do that. We don’t have any custody agreement, me and Sue Marie. I just have to get her to go along with it.”

  “Do you think she would?”

  He shook his head, looking dismayed. “I don’t know. She should. I mean, she’s got a job working evenings at the casino—she can’t keep an eye on the kids. And she likes to go out when she’s not working. Kids can be a drag. But I like having the kids. I haven’t had Rachel too much this year because she’s busy with school and sports and a boyfriend. I didn’t know...I didn’t know....”

  He shook his head again. “Can you help me with this?” he asked Iris. “Can you come with me to talk to Sue Marie?”

  “I’m afraid that probably wouldn’t work,” Iris said. “It’s one of those things, Robbie. Sue Marie and I haven’t really been rivals, never out in the open at least. But the unspoken fact is we’ve often been interested in the same man.” She shrugged. “She’s been a little flirtatious with Seth....”

  “I never responded,” Seth said, weighing in for the first time and holding up his hands, palms toward both Iris and Robbie. “Well, I did turn down her offer of getting together sometime to catch up. There’s nothing to catch up on. From the time we broke up in high school, she hasn’t been on my radar. At all.”

  “But you could help,” Iris said. “You could help Robbie talk to his wife about where the kids live. I don’t think Sue Marie likes me much and I know Rachel is angry with me, but she respects Seth.”

  “Aw, Iris,” Seth said in a low moan.

  “Well, it’s a thought,” she said. “You’ve been trained in domestic violence. You answer domestic disturbance calls. You know a lot about this stuff. And hey, there was that night in the bar—I saw you in action.”

  “She might listen to you,” Robbie said. “Not for the right reasons, but she might listen.”

  “Iris,” Seth said in a warning tone.

  “Well, you can always just say no, Seth,” she replied.

  “I don’t care what I have to do,” Robbie said. “I just have to get my kids in a safe place where I can watch them. Iris, I can’t watch them when they’re at school.”

  “I know. As long as Rachel is at the high school, we have to be diligent. I wasn’t the only one concerned about her. I’ll remind her gym teacher to watch closely and I’ll be very observant. I have their class schedules. I can post myself nearby when the bell rings. I’ll do my best.”

  “Seth, you’ll come talk to Sue Marie, right?” Robbie asked.

  “I shouldn’t...”

  “Just be a witness while I talk,” Robbie suggested.

  Seth mulled it over for a moment. “Okay. I’ll meet you at Sue Marie’s at five-thirty. She’s gonna be there, right? And Rachel?”

  “Sue Marie goes to work a little later. I told her I was coming over again. She knows I want to take the boys back with me but Rachel has refused. I told Rachel I’d be at school today to pick her up and bring her home. Maybe she’ll listen.”

  “Well, good luck,” Iris said.

  “Thanks,” he said, heading for the office door, hat in hand. He turned back and looked at her. “You know, I think maybe we have one of those abusive relationships. No hitting,” Robbie said. “But there was yelling and cheating and breaking up and getting back together and more fighting and yelling and cheating.”

  “Oh, Robbie,” Iris said.

  “Not me,” he said. “All I ever wanted to do was make Sue Marie happy, but I never could, at least not for long. We had more fresh starts than any two people I ever knew. I’m not the best catch in the world, but I was willing to do about anything. In fact, if she wanted to try again right now, it’d be damn hard to say no.”

  * * *

  Iris went back to school. There was still a little time before the final bell. She found Spencer Lawson in his office in the boy’s locker room and had to make it fast before classes let out and his teams converged on that sp
ace and started stripping to get into their sporting gear.

  “Got a minute?” she asked him.

  “You bet.” He looked at his watch. “You either get ten minutes or we should step into the hall.”

  “Let’s see where we are in nine minutes,” she said. “You know how the students tighten up when they’re being sneaky? Closing ranks against us?”

  “Only too well,” he said with a smile.

  “We have a very delicate, potentially volatile situation. I had to call DHS to report suspected abuse between our most popular couple—Brett and Rachel. Social workers are investigating the situation. I don’t know what their findings will be, but I can say without a shred of doubt that the relationship is abusive.”

  He frowned. “Seriously? Who’s abusing who?”

  “Brett seems to be the one with the slippery punch. The girl has been wearing a lot of bruises that I questioned. She had some very creative excuses. She finally admitted to her father that Brett’s very rough with her, that he hurts her sometimes, but of course he doesn’t mean to.”

  Spencer shook his head. “I’ve seen this before,” he said.

  “It’s a first for me. When have you seen this?”

  “We tread a very fine line in this department. We want our men to be killers on the field and pussycats everywhere else. We have some good role models for that and I watch for those pro ball players who can hit real hard and treat everyone off the field with great care and respect. I use them for examples every chance I get. But just like in the outside world, we have those who only know one way, to control everything, no matter what. I’ve dealt with my share of bullies and bad boyfriends. I keep an eye on that, a very serious eye. Brett’s one kid I never would have guessed for a brute. He’s polite, keeps good grades, works hard.” He shook his head. “Shows you just never know. Want me to talk to him?”